Anyone who knows anything about me knows I hate bugs with a passion. And I'm terrified of them. I won't kill them, I won't catch them, I just run screaming from them.
(Yes, I know all my IRL friends and family are nodding their heads and rolling their eyes right now.)
Yesterday poor Charlie had a run in with one of those heinous creatures.
We were playing outside on the deck and all of a sudden he started screaming. At the top of his lungs. As if someone was pulling his toes off.
I run over and try and see what's wrong. He's swatting at his face, but I can't see anything. I finally catch his hands and am turning his head around and still can't see what's gotten him so upset! I move his head again and finally see it.
This #*&(%$* thing caught in the folds of his sweet, fat, little baby neck.
More than once.
I did run screaming, but after I killed it. And continued to freak out about it long after Charlie calmed down. Fortunately, he was alright and didn't have too much of a reaction. Just a little bit of swelling where he was stung. A little Bendadryl helped with that issue. As of this morning, the swelling is almost totally gone and there's just some slight redness at the stinging sights.
A warning to all yellow jackets; stay away from my baby!!